


Black Cats and Voodoo Dolls

by disheveleddarkness



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: GRADENCE - Freeform, Gravebone, M/M, gredence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:46:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8745451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disheveleddarkness/pseuds/disheveleddarkness
Summary: "You didn't need to drug me on a love potion, my boy. All you needed to do was tell me what you want."Credence tried to push back against the hand pinning in down to no avail. "No, no, I didn't... I didn't know..." Tears lined his eyes, shame heavy on his heart.





	

Chapter 1: Dr. Facilier's Voodoo Emporium. 

"I love staying home with you. You know I do. But I really must get back to work." Mr. Graves said gently, holding both of Credence's hands.

Credence slowly lifted his gaze. He knew he was well enough by now to be alone, but it was still scary. A part of him worried Mr. Graves wouldn't come back.

"What if I come home during lunch? Would you like that?" Percival suggested, releasing one of his hands to bring his to brush over Credence's jaw delicately. If it would make Credence feel better, he too would feel better. It wasn't a bad idea to check in on him anyway.

Credence faintly smiled.

"Very well. I'll be in around noon." Mr. Graves said. "And we'll have a nice lunch together." Maybe Credence would feel like leaving the house.

Credence's silence was not encouraging. But the guilt his nervousness brought Percival needed to be ignored. He had been very lenient in staying home with Credence for quite some time as he recovered from the subway incident, unconscious for days then slowly improving under Mr. Graves' devoted care. Grindelwald had been right about one thing: Credence's survival was a miracle.

\---

Credence sat alone in the living room for well over an hour doing absolutely nothing, an antique clock tick tick ticking and wind scraping and tapping bare branches against a window, keeping him tense.

Otherwise it was so quiet. When there was silence with Mr. Graves it was peaceful, but this... This was maddening. 

His gaze lingered on the record player. He approached it after some consideration but ultimately walked away, wandering through the house. Although there was one bedroom, Mr. Graves' apartment was massive, at least to Credence.

In the pantry he looked at bottles of ingredients, but he was not good enough at reading yet to recognize but a few words on the labels. Mr. Graves found it interesting that Credence could remember what a handful of words looked like but couldn't decipher new ones until he memorized it as a unit. Credence had been trying to shift to the phonics mindset, but now he was out of practice. A shamed sorrow filled his heart. He'd already forgotten something most other people can do.

He wished he could make a potion for Mr. Graves. He would like that. Maybe Credence could find someone to help him. Yes, that's what he could do to make the morning go by faster. He could remember seeing a magic store a few blocks away. He'd wandered into it one day, shocked at all he saw in there. Mostly he had felt terrified someone would tell his mother he'd went inside.

When the shop owner made eye contact, Credence had made sure to get out of there quickly -- but the tall man in a top hat followed, insistently trying to hand him a business card.

When Credence glanced to it but had nothing to say, the owner had asked what was wrong. "Bad vision, I can't..." Credence had answered. And so the card had been read aloud to him: "Dr. Facilier's Voodoo Emporium. Charms, potions, tarot readings! Dreams made real!"

Credence went to get his shoes on and grab one of Mr. Graves coats, looking at his reflection for a while once he had it on. As he admired it, he almost smiled. It looked nice. Mr. Graves was a classy man. After Credence spent a moment hugging himself in the coat he went to venture outside.

His first obstacle was ice on the sidewalk. He'd had plenty of practice walking on it before; he just had to take his time and be careful.

His breath hung in the air, his lungs aching in the crisp cold. Maybe he should have stayed home... No! He wanted to show Mr. Graves he really did want to learn magic. He didn't want either of them to have to be hurt by Grindelwald ever again. Although... If Mr. Graves couldn't stop him... What hope was there that Credence could defend himself? Oh...

Nonetheless...

He continued his journey to the shop. It was a dreary day, but thinking about Mr. Graves kept him from sinking too far into despair. As long as Mr. Graves was here the world wasn't all bad. Credence thought of how he felt when Graves gently cupped his face, leaning in for an adoring kiss, or walking alongside him and stopping to press one hand to his back and the other to pull his shoulders straight.

"Doesn't that feel better?" Graves would ask, with Credence nodding but losing the posture later again anyway.

He also thought of laying across the couch with his head on Graves' lap as he read a book, sometimes even reading to Credence.

He stood outside the magic store for a few minutes before going up the steps and timidly opening the door, peeking around its edge.

The shop was bigger on the inside. Credence moved out of the way as a mother and daughter was heading out. He lowered his gaze but respectfully held the door for them. His chest tightened with a jealous sorrow as the girl hugged her mother sweetly, yet he also felt happy she wasn't alone as he had been for so long.

"I remember you!"

Credence flinched, slowly stepping out of the doorway and looking to Dr. Facilier. 

"You left in quite a hurry, but it's good t'see you're back." The witch doctor smiled charmingly. 

"Hello."

"Ya look like you're here for a reason. Do tell. No, let's see..." Dr. Facilier began to circle him as he spoke, "There's a special man in ya life... A handsome, strong wizard. Mhmm... You're here to find him a gift?"

"Uhm... I want to make him a gift." Credence said, clasping his hands together and taking a step back.

"Ain't that sweet. Ya don't seem like the crafty sort... But that don't stop some people, now does it? Good for you. What do you have in mind?"

"Well..." He didn't know much about magic, but he did know potion making didn't take too much talent. He could cook. "I want to make a potion."

"Great! This way, this way," Dr. Facilier began to guide him down a steep staircase. "The apothecary's down here." With the snap of his fingers wall sconces lit, followed by candles on shelves. Shadows shifted along the walls, and Credence felt like someone was standing behind him. Sometimes he felt a touch on his arm, but no one was there.

"If ya need anything, just holler. I've got this wall all on sale, but I wouldn't recommend these ingredients unless you'll be makin and usin the potion in the immediate future. Ain't long before they'll go bad, that's why they're on sale, ya know."

"Doctor... Facilier, was it?"

"That's right."

"Dr. Facilier, I..." Credence looked over some of the labels on bottles then back to the witch doctor. His voice softened, "I can't read."

He watched Facilier's dark eyebrows raise. "Really now? Well... What are ya needin? I'll grab it for ya. Not a problem."

Credence was silent. 

If his staring made Facilier uncomfortable, he didn't show it. "I know just the thing!" he said when it was certainly clear Credence didn't like to speak if he didn't have an answer. "It'll be real simple. Just bake with it and a calming drought will make the perfect cake. You ever heard the phrase the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach?"

"No."

"Okay... Well... Trust me, he'll love it. The best damn cake he ever did taste." Facilier assured him as he picked up a potion set. "Everything you need comes in this kit for a hell of a deal of only four dollars."

"Oh. No thank you." Credence turned, beginning to ascend the staircase.

"No, wait, come back! I thought you were down for this!" Facilier said. "Is it the price? How does two dollars sound?"

Credence stuck his hand down into a pocket and pulled out one dollar.

After an exasperated breath Facilier calmed himself. Smacking this boy wouldn't help him make a sale.

"I'll sell you all of this for ONE dollar! What a bargain! Now let me show you everything in it."

"Okay."

"This here," he raised a glass of a soft pink liquid, "is griffin blood."

"Griffin blood." Credence repeated to help him remember.

"Ya mix the griffin blood with this here bag of dried rose petals after you boil the petals."

"I boil the petals and mix them with blood."

"Right! And then ya add five drops of rosemary oil." He uncapped it and passed it to him for him to remember it by its smell. After Credence put it back in the back he was handed another oil bottle. "And that's sandalwood oil, you'll put in three drops of that, then blend it all with the fresh jasmine leaf. Then there's just one more step -- you'll need to add some of your blood."

"... My blood...?"

"Yes. Now, don't worry, it doesn't need a lotta it. Prick your finger and get a few drops. Then you'll add your potion to the cake batter!"

Credence handed over his dollar then took his bag and looked around at the other ingredients in the room.

"Is there somethin else ya need?" Facilier asked after a few minutes.

"No." Credence didn't know his presence was bothersome because he had no more money. He wanted to look at everything.

\---

When Mr. Graves came home for lunch he was surprised to find Credence in the kitchen stirring his batter and pouring it into the cake pan. How wonderful he felt up to it!

"Mr. Graves!" Credence closed the oven door and went to cling to him.

"You're so sweet, my boy." Mr. Graves wrapped his arms around him and kissed his hair that was slowly looking better as it grew out.

"I missed you," Credence breathed out.

"Have you been alright?" Graves asked as he pulled back to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

"Yes."

"I'm so glad. What would you like for lunch?" Percival inquired. "How does Chinese sound?"

"I am making a cake." Credence answered.

"I know you are. But cake is not lunch. What do you want for lunch?"

"For you to eat the cake."

"Oh, fine..." Graves smiled, stepping over to sit at the kitchen table. The smile widened as Credence settled on his lap, rubbing a hand over Graves' chest and pressing their lips together.

Graves languidly moved his lips against his, circling his arms about Credence's thin waist and leaning back comfortably into the chair, content to remain as they were until Credence went to check on the cake and spread icing over it.

"Oh, baby, it smells delightful." Graves told him as the scent perfectly pervaded the air.

Credence smiled to himself, hoping the cake would make Mr. Graves happy. "You have to try it first!" he said as he cut Mr. Graves piece and brought him the plate and a fork.

"Gladly." Graves was sure it was taste wonderful, but even if it didn't, he would eat it to avoid hurting Credence's feelings. "Credence, how... How did you make it smell like my favorite moscato?"

Credence shrugged and sat across from him, scooting the seat closer to him every few seconds as he watched him eat.

Graves eagerly tore into it after the first taste, then half way through began to slow down then lifted his gaze to Credence.

"What... What is this?" he asked between labored breaths. "Credence..." Graves stood and grabbed onto the edge of the table as the room felt like it tilted. 

"Wh-what?" whispered Credence, frightened when Graves grabbed onto his wrist and yanked him close.

"What did you drug me with?" Graves managed to ask, gazing intensely upon Credence's beautiful lips. Oh, Merlin, how perfect they would look around his cock. He was sure Credence's pale face would become a lovely crimson as he looked up at him through long eyelashes, thick cock heavy on his tongue...

"M-Mister Graves, I..."

Graves crashed his lips into his, grasping his hips and grinding his aching erection against him, groaning as Credence's eyes widened. He more fiercely kissed him, earning surprised cries from the young man trying to pull away.

Credence managed to turn his face away to break the kiss, only for Graves to latch onto his neck and suck, leaving Credence a gasping mess. 

"You... Slut..." Graves muttered.

"No," Credence interjected, not so much in resistance of the bruises blossoming on his skin but in being called something so terrible. He shook his head. "I'm not, Mr. Graves!"

"My slut," Mr. Graves said, turning Credence and pushing him down across the table, the plate falling to the floor. Graves laughed for a moment as one hand held him down at a shoulder and the other groped his ass. "You didn't need to drug me on a love potion, my boy. All you needed to do was tell me what you want. How desperate you are for me to fill you."

Credence tried to push back against the hand pinning in down to no avail. "No, no, I didn't... I didn't know..." Tears lined his eyes, shame heavy on his heart. But he couldn't be upset with Mr. Graves, could he? If it was a love potion, he'd made Graves need him more than anything in the world. "I'm, I'm sorry!"

Graves groaned, knowing this was not the proper place to fuck Credence. But he was so beautiful, so perfect, so meant for his cock -- but hearing Credence cry began to pull him out of his powerful haze of lust.

Graves stumbled back, rubbing a had over his face and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on clearing his mind. "Credence... I apologize, I..."

His eyes opened again as he felt Credence had followed to embrace him, hiding his face in Graves' shoulder. He continued to weep. When he had calmed enough to regularly breath, he kissed Graves. "You didn't finish your cake, Sir. I'll cut another piece."

"Bless you."

{To be continued}


End file.
